Love won, love lost
by FiveMetersOfPrussia
Summary: In which the boys escape idiot island.
1. Chapter 1

If you love something, let it go

Summary: in which Ralph is scared.

Warnings: nothing really, yet, but probably in layer chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own lord of the flies.

A/N: So I tried to write some Roger/Simon today and literally just as I was about to finish it it all got erased. So, instead, have some one sided Jack/Ralph. Also, there will be more SL,GA soon! Maybe even some more SIP if I get my butt in gear.

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><p>He could hear the screaming, feel the heat of the fire as the island fell about him, fast the fear on his tongue. He could smell the salt and sweat and blood that had coated the island ever since Jack had decided to declare himself chief. He could remember the wide, frightened eyes of SamnEric as they warned Ralph of his impending demise... But all of this paled in comparison to what had gone on just before the ship arrived.<p>

Jack's hunting knife had been pressed against his throat, painfully, threateningly but Jack was stalling. Some of the boys insisted that it was to saver the moment, others said that it was because he saw the steam floating up from the ship, but Ralph knew better. If he could have seen his face he was willing to bet he had the same expression on that he'd had the first time he'd tried to kill the pig. He was no great hunter, no warrior or chief as he would have himself believe. He was a boy and a coward who had a certain way with words.

Even if Jack truly had intended to kill him, it didn't matter, for as the seconds drug on like hours Jack found himself in a rather different predicament. All Ralph could recall was the bite of the blade as it sliced shallowly against his throat, followed by the horrifying warmth of his own blood as it dribbled out of the cut. Somewhere behind him he could hear Jack screaming, followed by a very solid, dull thudding. Of course, Ralph didn't particularly care about Jack's pain - he had been intending to cut off his head after all - not did he care about the sudden cluster of boys that crowded around him. In vain they tried to pull Roger and the now very, very bloody, very jagged rock away from Jack, who rather looked like he'd been chewed up and spit out.

Ralph was instead more concerned with trying to stop his own bleeding and pressed both hands firmly to his throat, trembling ad he tried to focus on his breathing. Having a breakdown wouldn't do him any good. He couldn't hear Jack as he sobbed pathetically, couldn't hear Roger as he used every curse word he could think of as he struggled against the grip of five or six boys. He couldn't hear the smaller, frightened littleuns crying as they watched the whole display, nor feel the hands that took hold of his shoulders just before he slumped over against someone or something. His last, fleeting memory of the island was of the waves as they rushed up the meet him, likely half lodged in the sand, and lapped delicately at his feet.

He was told that they had all been aboard the ship for three days when he finally woke up, and that he should be careful when moving about. He didn't want to pull his stitches, after all. Ralph had just nodded mutely before he was sent on his way, left to explore the ship a bit before lunch. However, Ralph hadn't been in the mood for lunch, nor dinner as it too passed. In fact, he hadn't particularly been in the mood for breakfast as it had rolled around the following morning, but the naval officers on board had insisted he eat and stuck him in a small, peaceful little room. Ralph had downed at least three plates of eggs and sausage before the rest of the ship was even awake, and was very quietly enjoying his toast and marmalade when he heard the rest of the boys stir about.

He disappeared before the officers could come to check on him with the kind offering of orange juice.

Ralph was practically invisible until lunch, for which he had tentatively poked out, only to return to the same room he'd eaten his breakfast in. Then he was off again, returning only for dinner, which had been waiting for him as promised. It was late into the night before Ralph left again however, as he didn't want to run into anyone, and headed topside. The cool night air felt good against his skin and for a moment, the moonlight almost looked pretty as it scattered across the top of the water.

However, it wasn't long before Ralph was acutely aware that he was not alone. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck all stand up one by one as his fear cemented him in place, knuckles white as he clung to the railing. He could just barely hear the footsteps as they came towards him, though he was sure he could hear his heart hammering away in his chest. Why had he left that room? It was safe there... He whimpered as he felt arms wrap around his waist, shut his eyes tight as someone's chest pressed against his back, and bit his lip as he heard the most frightening voice in his ear. "Got you, my little piggy." Jack whispered, chuckling wickedly.

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><p>AN: that's all for now! Leave me a review and lemmie know what you thought!


	2. within arms reach, but oceans apart

Summary: in which we hear Roger's side of the story.

Warnings: none yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own lord of the flies.

A/N: what whaaaaaat? Two updates in (sort of) the same day? Must be a blue moon.

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><p>In the past three days, Roger had been under surveillance of sorts, for after the naval officers had been informed of just exactly what had happened to the wailing ginger, they decidedly didn't want a repeat. However, Roger proved to be disinteresting to watch, and showed no signs of malice or disdain, only concern in regards to a certain blonde who was proving to be just as difficult. At least in regards to finding him, at any rate. So, it was the morning of the fourth day that they decided to let Roger roam about properly, giving strict instruction to avoid the quarters that they had holed Jack up into.<p>

Roger accepted the information easily, but made no promises to play nice, should he run into him elsewhere. Or at all, really, but that part had been muttered under his breath as he slunk out of their sight before they could change their minds. Mostly, Roger had spent his time staring out the window, replaying all the events of the past few months in his head. He thought of how he had lost quiet a few friends in the course of simply landing, a handful more through the wickedness that had crept upon all of them as they were forced to linger there. He hadn't ever been a particularly popular boy, for his cut throat and sardonic nature, bitter humor and frigid personality, but the few that he had had he'd sort of enjoyed. The last friend he'd lost, however, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about.

It was entirely Jack's fault, maybe not in the beginning, but it most certainly was at the end. Though, in retrospect, Jack had never been very good at being denied the things he wanted in life. He'd wanted to be chief, and in the end he was. He wanted to have Roger in his tribe and, regrettably, he had. He'd wanted /Ralph/, but Ralph wanted someone very different. Roger didn't exactly feel bad about that either, but he had been merciful and decided not to say it to Jack at the time. It hadn't really made much of a difference, because Jack had still thrown a fit and, instead of admitting defeat, set the island ablaze and demanded Ralph's death.

Where Jack had gotten the logic of, 'if he won't love me, I'll kill him', from but Roger couldn't sigh loudly nor roll his eyes hard enough.

He'd been unsuccessful at any rate, because Roger was... Fond of Ralph, despite himself. He couldn't help it, Ralph had wiggled his way into his cold, black little heart and warmed it something fierce. Roger had been asking about Ralph since before the officers had managed to stuff him into the stupid little room, and he had refused to be soothed by their assurances that he was alright, that he was safe, that he was resting as he healed. Hr didn't trust them or believe them, he wanted to see Ralph with his own eyes, to comfort him and keep him safe. There was no telling what nightmares he'd been having or what Jack could have done to him by now, and it made Roger's blood boil.

Jack's skin, as far as Roger could remember, looked like he'd gone at him it a meat tenderizer, which brought Roger a rather grim sense of satisfaction. Served him right for trying to kill Ralph, let alone hurt him. Roger hadn't even thought twice about beating Jack with that rock, it had felt good, even. Roger had been tired of having to sneak away from castle rock to see Ralph, even more tired of having to go back. He wanted to be with Ralph always, like he'd promised him.

Roger was silent as he milled about the ship, carrying on his search for Ralph and trying not to grow agitated. There was only so much space aboard the ship, and if anyone had done anything to Ralph... Mostly, the other boys had taken to crying or huddling together quietly as they processed exactly what they'd done, so they didn't pose too much of a threat. However, Roger had yet to see hide or hair of Jack, which was worrisome when he was also looking for Ralph.

The last thing Ralph needed was Jack leering about.

The deck wasn't as quiet as it had been earlier in the day when Roger had first stepped onto it, for the sound of muffled sobbing that came from the very front of the ship. Roger was cautious as he wandered over, not particularly keen to get trapped in another sob fest, the last of which resulted in Johnny crying all over his shirt. As he drew closer, however, it was not a pesky littleun that he found, but instead Ralph, curled up with his knees to his chest and shaking hands rubbing at his eyes. He'd seen Ralph cry once before, but still Roger felt out of place, unsure.

"Ralph," he called gently after a pregnant pause. Ralph startled and looked back at him like a startled deer, only to dissolve into tears again a moment later. "Hey, now, it's alright." Roger said, trying his best not to sound as awkward as he felt. He sat down beside Ralph and, gently, pulled him close so that he was settled snugly against him. To this, Ralph offered no protest, and curled into his arms instantly, trembling something awful. Why did Jack have to find him? Why couldn't he just leave him alone?

"Ralph," Roger called again, rubbing his back in slow circles as he shook. "Ralph, what happened? Did someone hurt you?" He asked, frowning worriedly. Ralph only continued shaking for a moment before pulling back to look at Roger miserably. "Ralph?" He asked again, brows furrowing. Ralph lifted one of his own tremulous hands and pressed it against his throat, shaking his head slowly.

It took a moment, but the horrifying truth dawned on Roger and he hugged Ralph tightly, a deep frown marring his features. He hoped it was only temporary, because this meant that Jack could hurt him as much as he liked and, were there no paper or writing implement to be found, Ralph couldn't breathe a word.

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><p>AN: Thank you to those who review, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought, or shoot me a pm!


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